The Cowboy's Unofficial Guide to the Open Road
by Agent Orange
Summary: Faye drags a very unwilling Spike on the road trip from hell as she searches for another piece of her past. Complete. Rated R for potty mouths.
1. You Turn the Screws

Author's Notes: This story takes place in a magical realm after Speak Like A Child and before say…Ed leaves. This fic is mostly for fun. It was real easy for me to write and merrily full of fun road movie cliches, but I just felt the need to do it. I was going through Faye withdrawal after The Reluctant Jezebel. I wanted to have Spike and Faye going at it in their full glory. I just adore them together…just not in a romantic way. So this is sort of my take on a Spike/Faye though I want to warn you it will disappoint anyone looking for some hot loving between them. 

You Turn the Screws

__

You kick the sand

You get the upper hand

Then you sell it to Japan

It's business like

You turn the screws

It's what you choose to do

Spike had been pissed off before. In fact, there were times in which he might even go as far to say he was livid. Livid. Now that is a word you don't throw around often. It takes a lot to make a person livid. But as Spike was staring into the empty box he had in the refrigerator, he found he was several steps beyond livid. He was down right murderous. He took a breath, trying to focus all of his energies into not destroying the next thing he happened to run into. After he was a bit composed, he grabbed the box and strode into the living area. "Ed?" he asked.

"Faye did it," she said shortly without looking up from her computer.

"Faye did what?" he asked, somewhat annoyed that he had just been brushed off by a 13-year-old.

"Does it matter?" she yawned. She then dangled her head limply from her neck so that she was looking at him upside down. She spotted the box. "Oooooh. Faye-Faye definitely did that."

Spike nodded in a way that suddenly made Ed pity poor Faye-Faye. She was gonna get it. "Thank you, Ed," he said flatly as he then proceeded to bang harshly on her cabin door.

"All right, all right," she whined as she flung the door open, green goop on her face and towel wrapped around her head. 

Spike just lifted the empty box into plain view.

"Oh, that. So, I was hungry. Sue me."

He took another deep breath, and then in a very cold and methodical way, flipped the box over so that it revealed the lid. Written across the top on huge letters were the words, "Property of Spike. Do NOT eat. Trespassers will be shot."

Faye shrugged. "Food is fair game on this ship, Spike. You know that," she yawned as she went to slam the door in his face. He darted his arm out to stop it from closing and slammed it back open. 

"First of all," he said so darkly, even Faye had to almost take him seriously. "Do not tell me the rules of this ship. This is not your ship. You are a barnacle stubbornly clinging to the hull. Second," he hissed. "We just hit a bounty. There were a bunch of food containers right next to this one. Third, what you so callously wolfed down your bloated throat happened to be egg rolls from the shop I lived over as a kid. They are the best egg rolls in the fucking universe. I have not had these egg rolls in ten years and will probably never have them again because the guy who made them is about two seconds away from a massive coronary. So basically, Faye, you just ruined my life and I hate you." He slammed the door. The last line was admittedly lacking dignity, but he was so pissed off it was either spit that out and leave or he thought he might actually strangle the life out of her. Couldn't he have just one simple pleasure on this ship? Just one? All he wanted was a damn egg roll. 

"You are such a baby, you know that?" Faye opened her door and yelled after him.

"_I'm_ the baby?" he screamed at her. "We never hit bounties this big, ever! We are never going to have that much food on the ship again and out of the fucking embarrassment of riches in that fridge, you ate the one thing I asked you not to for no reason other than to be a giant bitch!!! I've met serial killers with more compassion than you! You have no respect for anyone on this ship and I am sick of it!"

"Like you wouldn't have eaten my egg roll."

"In this case? I would not."

"Bull fucking shit."

Spike closed his eyes for a moment as he imagined how satisfying it would be to connect his fist to her made-up, guacamole dipped face. 

"You know what?" Faye suddenly shrieked, peeling her mask off. "I'm leaving."

"Don't bother. I'm going out. And when I come back, you better be gone or hope I am real fucking drunk."

Spike was real fucking drunk. He just stared into the bottom of his glass thinking about his egg rolls. He should have eaten them all at once but they were so good. You don't rush those sorts of things. And they had just gone grocery shopping. The Bebop. Grocery shopping. It was a momentous occasion. Not only did they have a nice supply of food but they had beverages and snacks. He didn't see why a bunch of decent human beings couldn't let him have a few lousy egg rolls. To everyone else they were just egg rolls. But to him they were his boyhood wrapped up in a crispy shell. God, he was drunk.

"You Spike Spiegel?" someone asked from behind.

Dammit. He was too depressed to fight. And he had a good seat, right in front of the pretzel bowl. It would be a shame to give it up. "Yeah," he grumbled, stuffing his face full of pretzels on principle. "Who wants to know?"

"You know Faye Valentine?"

"What, you mean that free loading, ungrateful, egg roll sucking bitch?"

"I guess."

"Never heard of her."

The man obviously had no idea what to think. "Uh…ok. Well…I have this like, top secret document or something for her. I just heard that you were…"

"Oh, _that_ Faye Valentine," Spike perked up and snatched the envelope from his hands. 

"The guy said not to open it," the man implored, but Spike was already stumbling down the street, looking for suitable reading light. The note said she had a package waiting for her on Earth. She was popular lately. He tripped back into the living area of the Bebop to see Faye sprawled lazily on the couch, filing her nails.

"Hey, you're drunk," she observed flatly. "Must be my lucky day."

He crumpled up the note and tossed it at her so it hit her square in the forehead. He then plopped down on the floor about three inches from the television set. He couldn't see a thing, but he heard her make some curious little noises before she suddenly got up and bolted to her room. "What just happened, Ed?" he asked. She had seemingly not moved an inch since he left.

"Faye made weird faces and then went stomp-stomping to her room," she sighed. "What's up?"

"Don't know, don't care," he grumbled, crawling to the couch. "Where's Jet at?"

"Jet person says he's tired of Spike and Faye Persons squawking like deranged chickens," she paused to giggle a bit. "Deranged chickens," she repeated. "Jet went to cut baby trees. Said to get Jet when Spike and Faye-Faye killed each other."

"Nice."

Ed suddenly back handspring-ed over so she was on her hands and staring directly into Spike's face. "Spike drunk?"

"Little bit, yeah."

"Faye was sorry about egg rolls. Faye said Faye didn't know."

"Yeah, but she never bothered to ask, did she. And I doubt the words 'I'm sorry' ever escaped her lips."

Ed sighed and flipped back upright. "True, true. Ed just trying to stop squawking. People gotta sleep you know." And with that, Ed and Ein took off to sleep…whenever they slept. Spike put one foot on the floor to curb his spinning. As long as there was Faye, there would be squawking.


	2. When My Ship Comes In

When My Ship Comes In

__

There's a dim light off the pier

And I've been watching it for years

Through the crashing waves there's a distant bell

And it won't stop ringing in my head

All I do is stand and wait

For her to come and take me far away…

The next morning, Jet was accosted by a very flustered and disheveled looking Faye. "Is my ship ready yet?" she asked him hurriedly.

Jet snorted over the rim of his coffee mug. "You're joking, right?"

"Why not? You're usually pretty quick about the repairs," she said quickly, tying her hair up in a quasi-bun.

"Woman, you practically handed me the ship in a paper bag. If I have it up a week from now it'll be a miracle."

"So…you're saying I am without ship," she pouted.

"That is what I'm saying, yes."

Faye nodded and then walked out the hanger. Jet stared after her a moment, glanced once at Ed who was also watching all this, and then the two of them crept outside the ship to investigate. Faye was standing on the dock with her thumb pointed skyward.

"Uh…Faye?" Jet asked. She did not respond. "What are you doing?"

"I'm hitchhiking," she said flatly.

"Hitchhiking where?"

"Earth."

"You're going to hitch all the way to Earth?"

"People hitchhike across the galaxy all the time," she explained quite seriously. "They wrote a whole guide about it."

Jet debated if he should break the news to her and then decided against it. "Ok," he shrugged. He turned to Ed who gave him a cuckoo sort of motion before they went back into the ship. 

"She still out there?" Jet asked an hour and a half later.

"Yeeeeep," Ed said in mild amazement. She had been watching Faye from the window this whole time. "Isn't Faye's thumb tired?"

"I wonder what the hell has gotten into her?" Jet mused, joining Ed at the window. He glanced back at Spike who had been nursing a hang over on the couch all day. He probably knew what was going on. Jet didn't really feel like dealing with Morning After Spike, however, so he just turned back to the window. Ein had also seemed to take interest in the proceedings, clumsily climbing up on the ledge to get a better view. "You think she'll actually flag one from here?"

"Ed doesn't know," Ed said softly. Ed knew she could very easily make a ship come for Faye, but somehow that seemed like cheating. Faye was obviously out to prove something here. "HOW'S IT GOING, FAYE-FAYE?" she suddenly yelled out the window. They watched as Faye's thumb was momentarily relieved by her middle finger, then reclaimed its post.

Then, to everyone's shock, a starcraft slowly began to descend. They watched open mouthed as the craft landed a few feet in front of Faye and opened the hatch. Faye eagerly sprang to her feet and went to greet her new best friend. Sitting inside of it was just about the foulest creature she had ever seen. The man had one eye pointing in almost the complete opposite direction as the other, had several teeth growing out of the side of his head, tattoos all over his body and to complete the look, he was wearing a T-shirt that said, "Satan Is My Dad."

"You need a lift, baby?" he asked, eyeing Faye hungrily up and down.

Faye promptly folded her arms in front of her chest. "Uh…no. I was actually just wondering if you had the time?"

The guy leaned forward and sniffed the air around in her in the most demeaning way possible. "It's about lunch time," he sneered.

Faye thanked him and took several steps back from the craft. The man seemed as if he was going to object, and so Faye folded back her sweater to reveal her gun. "That'll be all," she said firmly. The man seemed to get the message. Faye watched for a bit to be sure he took off, and then turned to walk dejectedly on to the ship. When she entered the living quarters, everyone was staring at her. The majority of the crew was looking from their place huddled around the window, and Spike was looking at her in that way he looked at her when he didn't want her to know he was looking at her. He was flipping through a book, his eyes just barely peeking over the edge. "I need a ride," she sighed.

"No can do," Jet said, but he seemed sincere. "I'm meeting with an old contact from ISSP tomorrow about a possible lead, plus I got nine million things to do around here."

All focus shifted to Spike, and he quickly lifted the magazine entirely over his face. "Spike…" Faye grumbled.

"Hmmm?" he asked innocently.

"Don't give me that. You were listening this whole time. Can you please just give me a ride?" she rolled her eyes uncomfortably, irritated that he was ever in a position of this much power over her. He always had stuff she wanted before, but never stuff that she needed.

"I have things to do," he replied.

"Fine. Then can I borrow your ship?"

Everyone had to scoff slightly at that one. Even Ein seemed to make a doggy snorting sound. Faye obviously knew the answer, so she just continued on. "You know, I don't ask for much as a roommate."

"No," Spike said sharply, snapping the magazine from his face and sitting up in one angry movement. "You just rape and plunder."

"Exactly. So the mere fact that I am even lowering myself to ask you should indicate how much this means to me," she said softly. Realizing she was not, and would not be making any progress anytime soon, she sighed and turned away from him. "You guys show more kindness to strangers then you do to me," she muttered, storming her way back out the ship.

"Faye, where are you going," Jet grumbled more than asked.

"I'm walking to Earth!" she yelled back, and then continued on like she meant it.

Jet sighed and then whacked Spike in the back of his head. "Give her the fucking ride."

"Hell no," Spike scoffed. "She's been nothing but a pain in the ass and an ungrateful bitch, besides. She wouldn't even give me gas money."

"Gas money?" Jet asked, amazed. "Gas money? You want to talk about gas money? Why don't we sit down while I write up a nice little statement of how much gas you use on this ship. And while we're at it, the gate tolls, parking fees, repairs, maintenance…"

At each little item in the list, Spike sank lower and lower into his seat. OK, maybe he wasn't exactly as involved in the financial aspects of bounty hunting as perhaps he should be. "Well…if you want to start charging me rent, I'll pay it," he said weakly.

"I don't want your money, Spike," Jet said, sounding every bit like a father. "You earn more than your keep around here. I couldn't do this by myself. You know that. But as much as it pains me to admit it, Faye's a big help too. It wouldn't kill you to do her a favor once in awhile."

"I can't think of one thing she's done for me. Why should I help her?"

"Because you're a nice guy, all right? Your secret's out. So shut up and give her a lift before that creepy opossum kid does."

Spike shuddered in spite of himself. He saw that creepy opossum kid from the window. "Fine," he grumbled sitting up. "But only because if I owe anyone, it's you."

Jet and Ed watched as he took off out the hanger, and when they were certain he was not coming back, they both yelped in delight and gave each other high-fives. "Jet Person could make Hitler feel guilty!" Ed squealed, impressed.

"It's a gift," he sighed contently, as he, the girl and Ein stretched out comfortably on the couch. The couch. When was the last time they had the couch to themselves? "Just think…the whole ship to ourselves. It'll be so quiet and relaxing…what do you want to do first?"

"The Reeeeeee-frigerator!" Ed leaped in the air in excitement as Ein barked in agreement. Jet smiled. It was going to be a nice weekend. 


	3. Sugar in Your Gas Tank

Sugar in Your Gas Tank

__

If only I could say that everything's OK  
Take a good look and look the other way  
Frustration, hell who needs it anyway  
I'd rather sit back and just smoke cigarettes  
And be the one with the loudest mouth  


"Hey, little girl, want some candy?" Spike sneered as he hung his head out the side of his ship.

"Get bent," Faye snapped back, refusing to even stop to talk to him.

"All right, see ya'," he shrugged.

Faye screamed inwardly at her situation. "Wait, hold up!" she shouted. He stopped taxiing as she climbed very ungracefully into the cockpit, elbowing him in the back of the head a few times as she did so. "I hate you," she grumbled.

"You're welcome."

It had been a very aggravating ride through the gate. Neither of them spoke, but they silently fought with each other quite heatedly over the radio. At one point, Faye had insisted they leave it on commercials, slapping his hand away anytime he made a move to change it. This was just to be annoying. Just like she was quite positive that Spike did not listen to "God Talk" in his spare time on the All Jesus station. By the time they had touched down in upstate New York, they were just about out of gas and just about out of patience. Spike, as an experiment of sorts, looked at her expectantly when the fuel tank spat out their bill of 340 woolongs. "What?" she snarled.

"Nothing," he sighed as he swiped his card pointedly in the machine. "I gotta take a piss," he announced as he turned towards the service station.

"Yeah, well I'm starving. I'm gonna go pick up some snacks or something. You want anything?"

Spike looked at her as if she had just proposed, or something equally ridiculous. "Do I want anything?"

"Yeah. You know. To eat?" She said in a "duh" tone of voice.

"Uh…yeah. How about a cherry pie?"

Faye nodded and then sauntered off to the convenience store. Spike shook his head in utter bewilderment. Faye. Buying him an artificially flavored fruit treat. Had the world gone topsy-turvy?

Spike was quite engrossed in reading a dirty limerick written on the side of the bathroom stall when he heard a very unsettling whistling sound, followed by an earth shattering crash. The force threw him sideways into the stall, and he came frightening close to snagging himself in his zipper. He took a second to recoup from that horror before he nervously peaked outside. He knew what he was going to find. With the way his life worked, there was no other possibility. He removed his hands from his eyes to see a huge, smoking meteor settled quite nicely in the middle of his ship. There was a huge crowd gathered neatly around the wreck, each with looks of sympathy on their faces. "Poor bastard," Spike heard someone mutter. Spike himself felt there was no appropriate way to react to the devastating scene in front of him, so he stood staring at it open mouthed, wondering if this had anything to do with taking the All Jesus station in vain. He then seriously considering dropping to his knees and weeping, right in front of everybody, when Faye sauntered casually next to him, chomping quite loudly on a Twinkie. She looked the scene up and down, glanced at Spike, then flipped the snack cake in front his face and said, "It was 2 woolongs."

He looked at her for a second with a pained expression before he silently paid her and sulked off to go cry in his cherry pie.

Spike took in a shaking breath when he read the invoice. "This is every cent I have. This is it. All of my money and then some." He couldn't believe it. They had just had such a nice bounty too. He swore when they got it that he would be good this time. That he would try to budget slightly. That we wouldn't blow it all on tequila and the old air hockey table in the bar. That was two days ago. "Do you have anything, Faye?" he asked futilely.

"I just spent the last of it on my Twinkie," she said as she gulped down the last bite.

"Ok. So why don't we just lay down and die?" he tossed the bill into the air. "We have no funds, no ship, and we just ate the rest of our food. And where do you have to go again?"

Faye licked some cream filling off of her fingers. "Arizona."

"Ari…Jesus! How do you expect us to get there? Click our heels together three times?"

"Well, we would only be out of funds if you used them to fix your ship," she said plainly. "We could just leave it here and then get Jet to come back for it."

"That'll be 125,000 woolongs," the repairman said gruffly.

"Wait. For just leaving it here?" Spike asked, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

"Yeah. You're taking up space that could be better used by paying customers. Pay up or we'll have it towed."

"And how much would that cost me?" Spike grumbled.

"Considerably more," the man replied, smiling. He had Spike by the balls and there was nothing he could do about it.

Faye looked at Spike and shrugged. "So, if we paid the guy to keep it here, how much would we have left?"

"76K," he sighed.

"Pffht. That's plenty," Faye waved him off.

"Says the woman who just spent her life savings on five year old sponge cake."

"I'll be careful," she tugged on his arm. "You aren't seriously thinking about leaving me, are you?"

"I'm seriously considering calling Jet and having him pick me up, yes. If that means I'm leaving you then so be it," he yanked his arm out of her grasp.

"Spike, please," she ran in front of him, pleading expression in her eyes. "This means a lot to me."

"You're an independent woman," Spike shrugged. "I got you to Earth, you can get yourself the rest of the way," he said as he brushed by her.

"Come on, Spike," she whined, running in front of him again. "I need you," she said softly. When the jaded look on his face indicated he wasn't buying it, she sighed and said, "Ok. I need your money," in a tone much more appropriate to the old Faye. "Same difference."

"Tough," he shrugged as he made is way to the pay phone.

"I told you, Spike, I have things to do this weekend," Jet said into the phone, choosing to leave out the fact he was taking a bubble bath while drinking expensive beer at the time. "Important things."

"Jet, I'm totally fucked. I'm not gonna have enough money to drag the wench to Arizona and barely enough to fix the ship."

"But you would have enough to hang out there until I can get you."

"Well…yeah, but…"

"So I'll see you then."

"Jet!"

Click.

"Son of a bitch," Spike muttered into the phone.

"Come on, Spike," Faye cooed from her spot perched on a top of a garbage can. "It'll be more fun than hanging out in this hell hole all weekend. It'll be like…an adventure."

"An adventure you say? Well, golly gee whiz, Faye. When you put it that way, I just have to say yes!"

"Really?"

"Fuck no."

"Spike," she rolled off the garbage can, practically groveling at his feet. "Pleeeeeeaaassseeeeeeee."

"I said no, Faye," he struggled to walk as she grabbed on to his right leg.

"Don't make me embarrass you," she warned.

"Oooh. I'm shaking in my boots."

Faye grinned evilly for a second before jumping to her feet. "You asshole!" she screamed dramatically before slapping him in the face. His cigarette went flying out of his mouth. "This was supposed to be a romantic weekend together and I have to catch you with that…that…._whore_!" She pointed over to some random woman who was trying to liberate a stuck candy bar from a vending machine. A small crowd began to gather as the woman started sputtering nervously.

"Me?" the woman choked as Spike attempted to silently communicate that Faye should be ignored. "I…I've never seen that man before!"

"Don't give me that shit, you hussy!" she snarled. "I caught you in the bathroom with him. Or do you give fellatio to every man you just meet?"

The guys in the crowd whooped in approval as the woman turned several shades of red. "I swear…she's lying. She's lying!" she was practically sobbing.

"Yeah right!" someone called out from the crowd. 

Spike sighed at the daytime talk show that was about to go down in front of him. Faye was in the wrong profession. She should be spitting out soap opera scripts, with the drama that came spewing out of her mouth. "And with our baby on the way, too," Faye twisted the knife. That earned Spike several boos and hisses from the crowd, as he just watched her performance with his arms folded.

"Girl, you're a do right woman, and you need a do right man!" someone shouted and she was met by a few hearty Amens.

"I am a woman with feelings and needs and I demand respect!" Faye shouted, hopped up on the energy from the crowd, and drawing a bit on the article she had just read in Cosmo.

"Testify, sister!"

"How about _that _woman?" Spike pointed to the poor girl Faye cast to play the part of the whore.

"I swear I have no idea what she's talking about," she sniffled, hand still inside the chute of the vending machine.

"If she had respect she wouldn't be scamming on a single mother's man," Faye said in return, adding a little finger and neck motion to it this time. Uproarious reaction from the crowd.

"How are you a single mother, Faye?" Spike sighed, exasperated. "I'm right here." If she was going to lie, at least be consistent. 

"I don't see a ring," Faye snapped, holding her bare hand up for the audience to see. More booing and hissing. "So the way I see it, cowboy, you take me to Arizona or this is going to be your whole weekend. I have all sorts of pent up creative energy that I need to release." The crowd cheered her on, despite the fact none of them had any idea what she was talking about. People will start to cheer any declarative statement eventually.

"All right!" Spike gave up, mostly because he believed her. He had seen Faye's improvisational skills in action before, and it wasn't a pretty picture. 

Faye grinned widely and then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, honey," she said cheerily as she skipped out of the ring of people that had gathered around them. Spike and that poor, poor woman were left standing in the center of the circle, blushing sheepishly. 

"All right, show's over," Spike muttered and the crowd reluctantly began to disperse. He walked over to the woman who was still standing besides the vending machine, totally dazed.

"I…I…" she sputtered. 

"Don't worry about it," Spike smiled reassuringly. "She's got some problems, we forgot her medication…it's not your fault." He glanced over to the machine, which was still holding her Baby Ruth hostage. "May I?" he asked.

The woman shook her head as if snapping out of a trance, and then pulled her hand out from the machine with an embarrassed expression. Spike kicked the machine as hard as he could and about 19 Baby Ruths, plus a small bounty of other candy bars came spilling out. He grabbed some for his own long journey before handing one to the woman. "Sorry about that," he shrugged apologetically and then slunk off to locate his loose cannon of a partner.


	4. Holiday Road

Holiday Road

__

I found out long ago

It's a long way down holiday road

The absolute clunker of a car they rented with the little funds they could afford didn't look like it could make it to Saratoga, let alone somewhere outside Phoenix. It was a Barretta. A Chevy Barretta but it had to be over 20 years old. And it was yellow. It looked like a giant cracked out bumblebee. Despite the fact that the car was unreliable, the cowboys found they had a bigger problem once inside. "Uh…I don't know how to drive," Spike admitted, thumping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"You don't?"

"I just never bothered to learn. It wasn't necessary."

"So scoot over. I'll drive."

Spike seemed appalled at this suggestion, as if it never crossed his mind that it was an option. "I don't want to be driven around by you the whole trip," he whined. 

Faye rolled her eyes. "What are you, Jet all of a sudden? Don't give me that macho crap just move over and let me drive."

"I could learn," he shrugged, gripping his hands tighter on the wheel as if to show that it was going to be no easy feat removing him from that spot. Somewhere in the course of the three-second conversation it became about winning. He didn't know why, but something inside him became insistent that he drive this car. The idea of Faye having that sort of control did not sit well with him. "It can't be much different from flying."

Faye knew that there was no way she could win this, being that he was already in the seat. She didn't normally submit so easily but the fact remained that she shanghaied him into this trip. He could win all the battles he wanted. She already won the war. "Fine," she sighed. "Whatever." 

"Ok…" Spike took a breath. "Let's roll." He turned the key and got excited a bit as the car started up underneath him. He was driving a car. How cool. He thumped around Faye's head until he came up with her sunglasses. He put them on and then admired himself in the mirror.

"You're such a dork," Faye remarked.

"Yes, but I am a dork with a car," Spike grinned.

"Ok, what you want to do is put the car in…."

Spike had already slammed down on the gas and the car peeled crazily out of the rental lot and into the street. Faye yelped in surprise as she gripped the side of the door for dear life. "Don't I have to do something with gears?" Spike yelled over the roar of the engine. The Barretta wasn't the quietest ride in the world.

"It's an automatic!" Faye shouted at him. "Get out of second!"

Spike looked down at the transmission and then shifted to drive. "So what's second for?" he asked her.

"Keep your eyes on the road," she grumbled, and then added, "Cow."

Spike looked up and then narrowly missed the large bovine who seemed entirely unfazed by the ordeal. "I saw it," he shrugged. "So what's second for?"

Faye ignored him.

"You don't know what second's for, do you?"

"No, I don't, OK?" she snapped. "And you wanna slow down a bit? If we miss our exit we're screwed. It's hard turning around on roads like this. We're in the middle of nowhere."

Spike smirked at her and then slammed harder on the gas. The needle began to creep up around 80, 85, 90. Faye just glared at him until she saw the sign for Rt. 80. "That's our exit!" she shrieked, and then impulsively grabbed the wheel and yanked it. The car spun around in about 4 complete 360's before it came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road, right in front of the on ramp. The two of them took a moment to catch their breath, which was difficult considering the air was thick with the smell of burning rubber. "Some teacher," Spike grumbled. Faye would have had a retort if she was not distracted by the distant sound of police sirens. 

"Oh no," she sighed as a pair of flashing lights crept over the horizon. "The Man." There was no way they had money allotted in the budget for insane speeding tickets. Or bail.

"Let's out run 'em," Spike grinned, his eyes shining underneath her glasses.

"In a Barretta?"

"It's a sports sedan," he said in the car's defense. He peeled back and then shot off down the ramp, Faye screaming the whole way.

Spike did not merge onto Route 80. Instead he just cut directly across it and onto a farm, parking behind a grain silo. Faye ducked down in her seat as if that would help as they heard the sirens approaching, but instead of getting closer, they faded further down the highway until they were gone. Spike had just out ran the cops. "I love driving!" he exclaimed.

A rooster landed on their windshield. Faye stared at it for a moment before she flicked on the wipers and it fluttered gently to the ground. Then she turned to Spike and said, "Out."

"Aw, come on. There's no way we could have paid for that ticket and we only spun out of control cause you grabbed the wheel like a shrew."

"I don't care. Out."

"You'll have to make me."

Faye sighed and looked back out the windshield as if she was going to relent, and then tackled him. The scene that followed looked more like something out of a kindergarten class scuffle than the behavior of two grown adults. The constraints of the front seat did not allow them to make any sort of real offensive movements, so they basically shoved and hit each other open palmed while yelling insults. It really was ridiculous. If they hadn't been so aggravated at each other for a mounting number of reasons, they would have cracked up. Finally, Faye managed to lunge by Spike's defense and open the car door, which sent him spilling to the ground. She snatched her glasses off him as he fell and sidled confidently into the drivers seat. "You know, I should have gone with my original plan of mugging you and going myself."

"There's still time," Spike muttered from the dirt. He sulked slightly as he made his way around to the passenger's side. "How do you get to Arizona anyway?"

"Uh…I have a vague idea. We want to go to west and then down a little."

Spike just blinked at her for a few moments and then shrugged. "Giddy up."


	5. Mr. E's Beautiful Blues

Mr. E's Beautiful Blues

__

The smokestack is spitting black soot into the sunny sky   
The load on the road brings a tear to the Indian's eye   
The elephant won't forget what it's like inside his cage   
The ringmaster's telecaster sings on an empty stage

God damn right, it's a beautiful day   


They managed to be somewhat civil to one another for the rest of the day's driving. Faye wasn't exactly an ace behind the wheel but she pretty much knew what she was doing. Like she knew who had the right of way, when to use your turn signal and that you can make a right on red but not always. Driving is one of those things you don't forget, cryogenic slumber or not. Spike had to admit it was probably wise to let her drive. He pretty much nailed the mechanics of it in two seconds but he forgot that there were rules and things people expected you to obey. The glorious thing about flying was that it was in the air. There are no stoplights in space.

They didn't even bother with the radio. The odd thing was that neither one could even begin to guess what the other listened to and if they would object to it. They might have the exact same albums in their collection at home for all they knew, assuming they had album collections. But they would never let the other one find out and so the radio remained off. Instead they passed the time with some lame attempts at car games in order to avoid any actual conversation.

"Is it bigger than a bread box?" Faye asked half-heartedly.

"I dunno. What's a bread box?"

Faye sighed. "It's a box. You put bread in it."

Spike seemed to consider this far more deeply than was necessary. "Who puts bread in a box?"

"I don't know," Faye groaned, taking the tone of a mother who had an over inquisitive four-year-old. "People who don't want stale bread?"

"But that's what the twisty thing is for. On the bag." This really seemed to be bothering Spike, and in different circumstances, Faye might have found it endearing. Not today, though.

"I'm not asking for your opinion on it, lunkhead. I just want to know if it's bigger then a god damned bread box!"

"Well, I just don't know why a bread box needs to the be the reference against which all other things are measured. No one knows what a bread box is anymore. Is it bigger than a butter churn? Who knows? Is it bigger than our television in the Bebop? Oh yeah, sure. I can confidently say that it is bigger than our television."

Faye just glared at the road for a moment and the hauled off and smacked him. "Punch buggy red. No backs."

Spike rubbed his arm as he watched the offending vehicle roll by. He pouted out the window for a few moments, and then slugged Faye hard in the shoulder.

"Ooooow!" she howled. "You can't do that! I said no backs!" she declared, as if this was a legal matter that could hold up in court.

"Cadillac whack," he declared.

Faye crinkled her nose at him and then turned her attention to the opposite lane, which did in fact, contain a Cadillac. And so a new and extraordinarily violent game was born.

Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open by the time they rolled up into the parking lot of the roadside hotel. It was the first one they had come across in miles. The proprietor of the establishment seemed to be very much aware of his grip on the market, because he gave them an outrageous quote on the room. They attempted to haggle a bit, but by the time they were done, Faye was practically sprawled out seductively on the front desk and the price was still 20 woolongs over what they could afford. "Fine, screw it," Spike muttered as he yanked Faye down off the counter and strode out of the lobby. "We're camping out."

"I need to take a shower," Faye said. It was not a question.

Spike sighed. "That's your problem then. It's perfectly nice weather outside. I'm not gonna pay someone to put a roof over my head when it's not even raining." In fact, the whole concept of housing seemed like a waste to him right now. People would be better off if they had shells or something like turtles. They would certainly be richer. He grabbed some towels off a stray housekeeping cart and began to set up camp in the parking lot.

"You're serious about this?" Faye groaned. "We're just gonna pass out here on the side of the road."

"Why not?"

"I dunno. It just doesn't seem safe somehow."

Spike laughed slightly. "Faye, we're not exactly girl scouts, you know what I'm saying? Bandits should be afraid of us."

Faye nodded in reluctant agreement. "I still want to shower though."

"So shower. I am content to wallow in my own filth."

Faye huffed and then got to work on making her own little wash towel sleeping bag on the ground beside him, making sure that her partner was closer to the road. She figured the noise of the coyotes eating him first would be enough to wake her so that she could flee to safety. It took her a long time before she could even bring herself to close her eyes, and when she finally did, it wasn't long before she was interrupted. "Uh…Faye?"

"Yeah?"

"Are scorpions poisonous?"

"Um…I think so."

"Hmm. You might not want to move your leg then."

*****

Jet had never considered purchasing curtains before but now he wondered how they ever got along without them. It just brought the whole room together. Made it seem more homey. Plus, you could close them in the morning so the sun didn't beat in on the couch. Anyone who was on the couch in the morning was almost always hung over. It was usually Spike but Jet had been known to pass out in a drunken stupor himself, and he was not appreciative of the blinding light assaulting his eyes the next morning. Yes, curtains were a fine idea. Stylish, practical and not at all gay. "So, Ed," he said cheerily. "What do you want to eat?"

Ed was pouring over the cookbook they had bought on their little shopping excursion. Money seemed to last longer without Frik and Frak blowing it out their assholes, even if they had only been gone a couple days. That was usually enough time for them to be in some sort of trouble. He enjoyed having money to buy things like cook books and curtains. In fact, he was beginning to think it was possible to buy happiness.

"Hmmmm," Ed rotated the book around so she could inspect the pictured food items from every angle. "Jet ever try baked Alaska?"

"Baked Alaska," Jet mused. "Isn't that real hard to make?"

"Five star difficulty," Ed read aloud from the page.

Jet's eyes lit up with the whiff of a challenge. "Let's do it."

******

Spike woke up the next morning to find Faye missing. His immediate reaction was to check his wallet, but the money was there. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then realized that a missing Faye and accounted for money probably meant that a coyote had eaten her. He peaked under the car as if he would find evidence of her abduction but there was none. He wondered what a person was expected to do in a situation like this. He didn't really feel at all like looking for her. He didn't even feel like shouting her name or anything semi-useful like that. He had just woken up. Well, if she was abducted by a pack of coyotes, she was either going to adapt to their ways and live in the bush, or escape and find her way back. Since he wasn't about to interfere with her lifestyle choices, he figured the best thing to do would be to wait around here for a bit in case she did decide to escape. At least then she would know where to find him. He tried to figure out how long it should take the average person to escape from the clutches of a coyote pack, divided that number by the amount of cigarettes he had left and multiplied it by how long it would be before he would have to take a shit. He decided that an hour was a reasonable amount of time to await her return. He was about to light up his first butt and commence the countdown when he suddenly heard a large amount of screaming coming from the hotel, followed by what sounded like a rifle going off. He turned around to see a white blur rushing towards him. "Get in the car!" the white blur screamed at him as a very large man in a wifebeater rounded the corner. He had a rifle, and was hurling some obviously non-complimentary things in the white blur's direction.

The white blur was Faye. Spike sighed as he opened the door. "So you mean I can drive?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes!" the white blur screamed as she dove in through the passenger side window. "Go drive now!"

The man fired a few shots at the Barretta, taking out one of the rear passenger windows before Spike zipped out of the parking lot and onto the road. He glanced over at Faye who was dripping wet and hastily covered in a few hotel towels. "You did not," Spike whistled.

"I told you, I needed to take a shower. How was I supposed to know Norman Bates over there was gonna come back from breakfast at that exact moment?"

"Do you even have your clothes? Or is that the ensamble for the rest of the trip?"

"I've got a spare in the back," she sighed as she attempted to crawl her way into the back seat. "Don't look."

"Wouldn't dream of it. It would ruin the mystique, since you leave so very much to the imagination."

Faye kicked him in the back of the head with her damp foot as she hurdled over the seat. "Oops," she said coyly.

Spike listened with a mixture of amusement and astonishment to the commotion going on in the backseat. She sounded like she was in the middle of some gymnastic floor routine rather than getting dressed. But at the same time, he knew there was no way in hell he could get dressed in the back seat. He'd wind up with his jacket on his left leg and his right wrapped around his head. Finally, the girl emerged perfectly dressed in a tank top and shorts. She squeezed her way into the front seat and then looked out the window dreamily as if everything that just went down was totally normal. "I'm going to have to make a No Car Chase Rule," Spike sighed. "I got one, now you got one. We're even. No more. There's only so many windows."

"Deal. Just get me a place to shower. You're the comptroller here, buddy. A shower is a necessity for a refined woman like myself. Adjust the funds accordingly."


	6. Truckin'

Truckin'

__

Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me

Other times I can barely see. 

Lately it occurs to me… 

What a long, strange trip it's been. 

The pair remained pretty focus after that. Neither one wanted to make a week long holiday out of this, and so they just drove, only stopping briefly to pee somewhere on the side of the road. It was in these moments that Faye honestly wished she had a penis. It was just about the only thing it was good for. They were pretty sure they were going in the right general direction. They had swiped a map from a gas station but neither one of them really knew how to read it properly and they had no clue how to fold it. So it flapped around constantly in the wind until whoever was sitting shot gun at the time got aggravated and crumpled it into a little ball. Then they'd get lost and uncrumple it and the cycle would begin anew.

Eventually though, they sort of hit a rhythm, and they began to make what they thought was excellent time. The state boarders just flew and they kept alive on a steady but carefully rationed diet of candy bars and Jolt cola, which Spike kept in his front pocket at all times. Things were going so smoothly, that it was extra disappointing when the car began to smoke and sputter limply to the side of the road.

"What the fuck!?!" Faye shouted at the engine as if this could some how spur it on. "What's wrong with you!?!" She kicked the front tire a few times for good measure.

Spike himself had kicked it a few times, and when that failed to help he was completely out of ideas. So he just on the side of the road smoking. 

"I just don't understand it," Faye muttered. "Why the hell would a car just…oooooooooooooh," she breathed suddenly.

"What?" Spike asked.

"The oil."

"The oil? But we just rented the car a few days ago."

"Three months or 3,000 miles. Which we've done. Several times over, I should think. Damn, I feel stupid," Faye thumped down on the road next to him dejectedly.

"So…the car is shot."

Faye responded by making a little gun with her fingers and shouting, "Bang!"

Just then a large bird touched down on the hood of their fallen vehicle. Faye and Spike stared for a few moments until the same thought hit them at once. It was a vulture. The great beast squawked loudly and beat it's huge wings.

"Oh, shut up," they snapped back. It was going to be a bad night. 

*****

Ein was not very good at catching Frisbees. It took Jet and Ed a few tries to even convince him that a Frisbee was something worth catching as they demonstrated across the length of the park. Ed was quite a remarkable Frisbee catcher, actually leaping into the air and catching it in her teeth like a dog would. Eventually, Ein decided to humor them, and scurried on his impossibly short little legs after the flying disk. He adjusted himself so that he was right under it. All he had to do was stand there with his mouth open, and according to his doggy calculations, the Frisbee should glide gracefully into his mouth. But as it approached him, he realized that the Frisbee was actually pretty big and that Ein himself was pretty little. He suddenly decided that catching the Frisbee was going to hurt, and so instead of waiting for it with open jaws, he cowered under his paws instead. The disk thunked ungracefully off the top of his head and fell to the floor beside him. He then snarled at it, snatched it up angrily in his teeth, and deposited it at his roommates' feet as if to say, "Happy now?"

"Ok, boy," Jet scratched him behind the ears. "We can't all be athletes."

"Jet! Jet! Jet!" Ed started jumping up and down. "Look! Look! Look!" She was pointing wildly at the marquee of a budget movie theatre across the street. Godzilla vs. Mothra was playing.

"You like Godzilla, Ed?" Jet asked, surprised that a kid would be interested in something that ancient. Ed responded by making a blood curdling noise that sounded very much like the King of Monsters himself. "Yeah…I guess you would like Godzilla," he shrugged. "Well, all right. Let's check it out."

Ed whooped in delight and then stomped over to the entrance of the theatre in hurky jerky man-in-a-cheap-rubber-suit motions. Jet truly was enjoying his time off, so to speak. There wasn't anything that was technically keeping him from taking Ein out for a walk or seeing a movie when the two of them were around, it was just there was so much commotion he never thought of it. He might start throwing them out more often.

******

"We've been out here for three hours, Faye! I thought you were supposed to be good at this!!"

"There's only been one car in three hours and a woman was driving!"

"So? She looked kinda butch. I bet she went that way."

"I didn't see you throwing yourself at her, if you're so desperate for a ride!"

"Hey! I've seen the same movies and beer ads you have. The only people who get picked up on the side of the road are homicidal maniacs and hot chicks! Now shut up and prostitute yourself!!!

"Well maybe it's you, you ever think of that, you skinny assed little freak?!? I sure as hell wouldn't pick you up."

"Oh, yeah. I'm the freak. Let he who has not gotten chased out of someone else's shower with a shot gun cast the first stone."

"God, I fucking hate you!"

"Back at you!!!"

"Hey, hey, hey! You guys are tossin' some nasty vibes our way, man. You need a lift?"

Spike and Faye both turned to see a scruffy looking dude leaning out the side of a large van. There was a distinct…aura permeating the air around him, an aura of the herbal variety. "Yes!" they both squealed in delight, then Faye added, "Please."

"Jump in," the guy said amiably. "Hey, Rac! Open the back!"

The back door of the van swung open and the bounty hunters were almost knocked flat on their backs from the waft of pot smoke and grilled cheese that came rolling out. "You guys wanna do somethin' about yer car, man?"

"Nah, it's a rental," Spike shrugged. Like he would go back to Earth ever again after this trip.

The driver laughed. "Righteous."

The cowboys made themselves comfortable in the back of the van, which was crowded with two other people and a lot of musical equipment. The driver introduced himself as Fletcher, the guy who opened the door was named Rac and there was a wispy blonde woman who played guitar named April. She reminded Spike a tiny bit of Julia which simultaneously depressed and inspired him, but both emotions were quickly dulled when he got a whiff of the grilled cheese they had cooking off a hot plate. Both he and his partner must have acquired pretty desperate expressions just then because April smiled at them and offered a sandwich. "So where are you two off to?" she asked warmly.

"Arizona," they both replied through stuffed mouths.

"Arizona, huh?" Rac mused as he fiddled with the tuning pegs of his own guitar. "What's in old AZ?"

"I have a package waiting," Faye said in a wistful sort of way.

"That's cool," Rac nodded. It seemed there would be very little in life that Rac would find uncool. "We're going to Vegas."

Faye's eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas, which filled Spike with a feeling of insurmountable dread. "Vegas," she said in awe. "I thought that got hit pretty hard in the gate explosion."

"Oh, it did," April nodded, working on a sandwich of her own. "They turned all the craters into amusement parks and there's a casino there now called Trump's Pit. It's kind of inspiring and disgusting at the same time," she giggled lightly, and Spike melted in spite of himself. She sorta had Julia's laugh, too.

"I'm telling ya, when the universe ends it's just gonna be the cockroaches and gamblers," Faye said brashly, knocking Spike right out of his reverie. "So you guys play?"

"We gotta have it before we can lose it," Fletcher rumbled in a jolly voice from the front seat. "We have a gig!"

"Did you hear that, Faye?" Spike nudged her with his boot. "You have to have money before you can loose it. Revolutionary idea."

Faye stuck her tongue out at him. "So you guys are in a band?" Faye asked.

"We like to call it a performance group," April grinned.

"And our parents like to call it a waste of potential," Rac added. "We sort of have some trouble finding…direction."

"We suck!" Fletcher chimed in, but he seemed fairly enthusiastic about his suckiness.

"We don't suck," April defended their talents amicably. "See, I think we're all pretty good individually but maybe our group dynamic is sort of lacking. It'll come. You can't force this sort of thing." She spoke in the tone of someone who didn't believe what she was saying but didn't really mind.

"So why don't you guys do solo gigs?" Spike asked.

"Well, April's the only one who can sing and Fletch writes all the songs and I'm good at like…tuning and stuff. And hooking up the equipment," Rac listed their lists of qualifications.

"And you know three chords," April helped him out.

"And a half," Rac brightened.

"Three and a half of the really important ones," April clarified.

"Yes."

There was a brief pause and then all three members of the performance group cracked up hysterically laughing. Rac rolled back and started poking around in his duffel bag. "You guys smoke?" he asked.

Spike shrugged. "I do today."


	7. Angel From Montgomery

Angel from Montgomery

Neither Spike or Faye had any idea how long they were in the van, which was one of the many blessings of marijuana in these situations. The group was so laid back and easy going there were times that Spike was convinced they weren't going anywhere at all, but he appreciated it. It was a nice change of pace from his usual lifestyle. Spike wasn't exactly a tense individual but everyone else around him always was, which gave him a weird feeling most of the time he couldn't explain. He kinda felt like a hamster in a wheel but he wasn't running so he just kind of flopped around inside it, banging his head all the time on the way down. God, he was high.

He snapped out of his stoner introspection long enough to notice April tuning her own guitar. "I dunno," she giggled. She giggled a lot. But it was cute. "What do you want to hear?"

"Oh I dunno," Faye sighed. "I'm sure whatever you play will be nice."

"You want to hear some of our original stuff?" she asked in such a way that you would have to be a heartless prick to say no.

"Sure," Faye said cheerily. Faye was many things, but she was not heartless. Not really, anyway.

Spike leaned back in a comforting haze as the guitar chords filled the air inside the van, her voice cutting through all of it. And she sang too. Julia sang. Not professionally, just to herself sometimes when she was doing other things. Julia didn't smoke pot though. And she wore shoes. And she wouldn't eat a grilled cheese that had just fallen on the floor of a van. But hell, you know. Nobody's perfect.

"Ok, ok," Rac perked up. "I wanna run through Angel a few more times. I think I almost got it." Rac then turned to his audience and clarified a bit. "It's this real old folk song we picked up on the road. I like folk songs cause they don't have too many chords."

Spike and Faye nodded as they retuned. The group sputtered and started on the song about four times before they finally got it. And it seemed shaky to say the least until April opened her mouth and it suddenly all seemed to tie together. April did have a much nicer voice than Julia, though Spike would never admit that out loud. "I am an old woman," April sang, which seemed silly yet oddly beautiful at the same time. "Named after my mother. My old man is another child who's grown old."

A change suddenly came over Faye as she sang. An expression of recognition washed over her face, or maybe just empathy. "If dreams were thunder," April went on, her voice deep and bluesy and full of this raw, unexplainable something. "And lightning desire, this house would have burned down a long time ago."

"Make me an angel," Faye suddenly chimed in, taking the entire van by surprise. "That flies from Montgomery…"

__

Make me a poster from an old rodeo

Just give me something that I can hold on to

To believe in this living 

Is just a hard way to go

The focus had shifted entirely on Faye, and even April seemed to be surprised and slightly moved by her sudden sing along. Spike was not only shocked that she knew this song, as songs just didn't seem like something Faye would bother to commit to memory, but her expression as she sang it kind of took him by surprise too. It was sad and happy and nostalgic and sort of haunted looking all at the same time. It wasn't even her own words that she was singing, but Spike had the strangest feeling that this was the closest thing to the real Faye he had ever witnessed.

__

There's flies in the kitchen

I can hear them buzzing

And I ain't done nothing since I woke up today.

How the hell can a person

Go to work in the morning

To come home in the evening 

With nothing to say

They all finished the chorus together, no one really sure about the words except for April and Faye, but they were enough to carry it home. Spike just watched all of this. He knew that this was a moment a guy like him could never be a part of, but it was cool to watch just the same. "Hey," Rac spoke up suddenly. "We're here."

Faye smiled as she gazed out the window, the lights of the city dancing merrily in her eyes. "You know, running into you guys was probably the luckiest thing to happen to us this whole trip," Faye smiled. "And wouldn't it just happen that we hit a lucky streak in Las Vegas," she said in a flirtatious way. Faye flirted with ideas more than she ever did with people.

"Thanks guys," Spike shook Rac's hand. "You saved our asses."

"It's cool," Fletch shrugged. "You guys were a trip to save."

Spike turned and found himself staring straight into April's aqua eyes. "Yeah, so um…thanks and uh…stuff," he stammered. The combination of being high and slightly smitten did not do wonders for his articulation.

"You're welcome," she smiled warmly and Spike decided he should probably move away from her now before he made a total jackass of himself. "Hey, you have a pretty good voice, Faye," April said as she began unloading the truck. "Have you ever considered a gig in the music business?"

Faye smiled. "Nah. Right now, I'm just…considering."

April smiled back and it became apparent that something just passed between them that no one else understood. Must be a woman thing. "Thanks again," Faye said cheerily. "Maybe we'll catch your show."

And with that, the band scurried off to their gig, leaving the bounty hunters on their own again. Faye, however, did not seem too concerned. "Come on," she jerked her head towards the city. "I'm in charge of the funds tonight. I am going to hook us up."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"You'll see," she said seductively and then skipped off ahead of him.

"Faye?" Spike called behind her.

"Yes?"

"You were off key."

She gave him a "ha-ha" expression before grabbing his arm and swinging him around so that his back was to her. She peeled back the collar of his jacket and observed his suit size. "What are you doing?" he asked her.

"I told you. I'm going to hook us up."


	8. Crazy Game of Poker

Crazy Game of Poker

__

So I said, "Hey, what ya' doin' tonight?"

He looked at me with a face full of fright.

And I said, "How about a revolution?"

And he said, "Right."

Faye was a woman on a mission for the next two hours. She barreled into a discount clothing store and began furiously digging through the wares, holding clothes up to her partner, holding them up to herself, adjusting this, comparing that. After what seemed like 20 minutes, she brought a bunch of clothes to the counter, swiped Spike's card right out of his pocket and paid for him. Spike, too curious to protest, just followed her back outside.

She then barreled into a coffee house and dumped the contents of her purse out on the table. Inside was a sewing kit and what happened to be about a dozen labels of clothing designers she couldn't afford in several lifetimes. She then proceeded to carefully remove the paper price tags from the clothes, but did so in such a way that she could just as carefully slide them back on to the plastic bit. "See?" she said without looking up from her work. "We just lent them that money."

She then removed a razor blade from her sewing kit and very carefully removed the no-name labels from the clothing and sewed on her replacements when applicable. "Throw this on," she tossed him the suit.

Spike decided that now was not a time to argue so he shrugged and changed in the men's bathroom. The second he came out she was upon him, tucking parts in, letting parts out, but all of it done in very professional yet also temporary looking seams. Though he doubted anyone could tell how temporary they were in normal everyday interactions. She took a step back to admire her work, then sighed and threw a jar of hair gel at him. "Fix your head, please. People are gonna think you're a gowljo who hasn't seen scissors in ten years."

"Well…that would be a very astute observation," he shrugged. It was the first time he had spoken in all these goings on. He somehow sensed there was something very ritualistic in all of this and he didn't want to break her mojo.

"Yeah, but that's not the look we're going for tonight," she said simply and then disappeared into the bathroom.

About ten minutes later, Spike emerged to see Faye waiting for him impatiently. He was a bit taken a back by the radical change in her appearance. She looked conservative, confident and well put together. Her dress showed off her figured without actually displaying it and she had modest yet flattering make-up as opposed to the Fuck Me Red lipstick she usually wore. Her hair was neatly tied up in a sweeping sort of bun. She looked about ten years older but not in a haggard way. Her whole posture was just different somehow. Faye took one look at his hair and rolled her eyes. Spike had to admit he wouldn't know what to do with hair gel if it jumped out and bit him in the ass. As it was, he had about half of his hair slicked down to his head and the other half swept over in some strange come-over. "Come here," she snapped at him, like she was a mom about to polish her kid's face with her own spit at the park. She ruffled his hair up and then slathered on some of the gel herself, combing it every which way until she was satisfied. "There. Now you are presentable."

Spike glanced at himself in the mirror and actually yelped. His hair was slicked back like some sort of pansy ass pop star pandering to teenyboppers at the mall. "I don't even look like me," he observed.

"That's the whole point," she sighed. "Spike Spiegel and Faye Valentine wouldn't get very far in this town but Mr. and Mrs. Bovier are going to have the time of their lives." She gathered all of her stuff up in her bag as the manager strode over to them.

"Um, excuse me, are you going to purchase anything?"

She gave him a 40-woolong handshake as she strode out of the coffee shop, Slick Willy Spike reluctantly in tow. "Oh, by the way," she said to him. "It would probably be best if you don't speak at all tonight."

"Fine. This is all you, anyway, Faye. I wouldn't get this dressed up for my own funeral."

Spike thought he had seen Faye in action before but he imagined it was a totally different kind of action. She walked confidently into the casino and with a dignified grace he didn't know she was capable of possessing. She immediately made eye contact with the floor manager and strode up to him, hand extended. "Good evening," she said charmingly. "My husband and I are on our honeymoon. We've never been to your city before, and if it isn't too much trouble I was wondering if you could give us some advice. We don't usually make it out to big cities like this and it's all so…over whelming." Shy giggle, hair toss, eye contact.

"Sure," the manager grinned professionally, as opposed to leering like most of her intended victims did. Though admittedly, she wasn't playing for the leer tonight. He reached out and shook Spike's hand. "What did you have in mind?"

By the end of the night, Faye had managed to score them two tickets to see a magic show, free brunch and a free nights stay in the hotel suite. Spike did little more than laugh at everyone's jokes and compliment on the fine establishment when it seemed appropriate to do so. At the end of it all they had a few more hours before either of them could think about sleeping, so they decided to split up and explore. Spike gave Faye an allowance of 500 woolongs, which she immediately tried to protest as it was degrading and insulting that a grown woman be given an allowance. "Faye," Spike shook his head. "Shut up."

Faye understood everything that was implied by that shut up, her past history, their current situation, and that she owed him big, and decided that maybe it wouldn't kill her to shut up this evening. So she sighed and strode her way over to the "junior" tables just as confidentially and with as much class as she would have heading over to the high rollers. She was a piece of work.

Spike decided he liked Vegas. There was something desperate about it he kinda dug. Everyone and everything in it was starved for attention. Hey, you want magic? This guy'll pull a white tiger out of his ass. That don't do it for you? We have a full sized pirate ship, complete with pirates. So authentic, you'll get scurvy just from lookin' at it! We got the flying trapeze and people being shot out of canons! We'll even shoot you out of a canon if that's your bag! Look at me! Pay attention to me! He saw why Faye was so drawn to this lifestyle, since she was the human incarnation of the Las Vegas strip. 

He walked into a lower class bar and went to order when he noticed every single person in the place was glaring at him. He wondered why until he looked up and caught his reflection in the bar mirror. Oh yeah. He was dressed like James Bond. Spike would glare at himself too. There was nothing more aggravating than a rich little yuppie slumming it. He sighed and made his way respectfully back to the casino, not in any real mood to gamble, not when he and Faye were sharing funds. He was surprised to see she was still playing, and had apparently amassed enough woolongs to graduate to the higher tables. She had also accrued quite a handful of gentleman admirers. Spike shook his head. The girl had being a diva down to a science. He decided now would be a good time to break the seal.

"How ya' doin'?" a young, snarky looking guy greeted Spike amiably as they both approached the sink. The bathroom was one of the few places in Vegas casinos nowadays that a person could sneak a cigarette. Spike just nodded and then offered him a light.

"You see that fine piece of ass at the blackjack table?" the guy sneered, obviously tipsy.

"No," Spike shook his head. "Where?"

"Right there," the guy cracked the door open a peak. "In the purple dress."

Spike squinted as if this would bring the hottie into focus. He didn't see anyone. The only woman at the table was…."Oh. Oh, her," Spike shrugged. "Yeah, she's cute."

"Cute? A puppy is cute, man. That girl is banging."

"Yeah, well. I'd be careful trying anything on her," Spike shrugged, giving him a friendly warning.

"Why? She your girlfriend or something?"

"No. She just doesn't seem like the kind of person to be trifled with, that's all." That was certainly true. Despite her come hither demeanor, he always pitied the man who tried to put the moves on Faye Valentine when she was not in the mood. And he knew that when she was gambling, she was in the mood for little else.

"They all want to be trifled with," the man replied. 

"I wouldn't be to sure about that."

"You kidding? I'm telling, ya. The second I go make a play for that bitch she'll be all over me like stink on shit. Man, what I'd like to do to her…" The kid then continued to illustrate what he would like to do to her, complete with visual aides and a few colorful euphemisms. 

Spike just stared at him with a disgusted expression.

"What are you gay or somethin' man?" the kid stumbled a bit, poking Spike in the chest. Was this kid going to pick a fight with him in the men's bathroom? Jesus, that's sad. And over Faye. And Spike's apparent reluctance to bang her "like a screen door" as the kid so delicately put it. Spike just removed the kid's hand from his jacket and sauntered out of the bathroom. The little weasel wasn't worth it.

The kid was left to stare at the swinging door for a few minutes, until it swung back open. "You know, on second thought," Spike sighed and then sucker punched the kid right in the face. He went down like a ton of bricks. "Bang her like a screen door," Spike muttered, snatching a few chips out of the kid's pocket. "Fuckin' prick."

He flipped the chips in his own pockets and sauntered casually out of the bathroom. "Hey," he flagged down an attendant. "There's some kid passed out in the bathroom over there. Must have had to much to drink."

The attendant nodded. "Happens all the time," he sighed in a way that seemed to prove it did. "Thank you sir."

Spike saluted him and then nonchalantly strolled over to Faye's table, even going so far as to whistle. "I think we should call it a night," he said to her.

"Not now," she swatted him away. "I'm up."

"So…that's a good time to quit, right?"

Faye gave him a look that seemed to say, "Amateur," but then focused her attention to the limp body being dragged out of the bathroom. "Is that your handy work?" she muttered under her breath, her focus back on her hand.

"Possibly."

"Men," she snarled. She finished out the hand and then left the table with all the showmanship of a Hollywood starlet, coming only a few steps shy of taking a bow. Well, they didn't take advantage of the magic show but they were certainly impressed with their suite. It was quite possibly the nicest place they had ever been without having to shoot or sleep with somebody.

Faye made a beeline to the bathroom and stayed in there for what had to be 45 minutes, soaking up the fragrant bath oils like a sponge. She wished that these were luxuries she could get by just being herself, but knew that was impossible. She also knew that "herself" was a delicate thing these days. She thought she knew who she was, if not who she had been, but even that seemed to be changing now. She wondered if everyone felt this way, amnesia or no amnesia. "Years seem to flow by like a broken down dam," she sang a line from her bus song out loud to herself. She had loved that song the moment she heard it, on a pirate radio station somewhere on Mars. She remembered she froze when she heard the first line, just stopped what she was doing to listen to it. Something about it spoke to her, like it was written specifically for her. But it was an old song, even older than she, and she had to wonder if she still would have felt that way about it had life progressed like normal. If she was just an old woman instead of an old woman in a girl's body. She didn't know, but she hoped whatever was waiting for her in Arizona would help her to find out.

She emerged from the bathroom all prune skinned and sweet smelling, her damp hair still tussled from the towel she just removed from her head. Spike had already washed his hair out in the sink and was rooting through the liquor cabinet. He emerged with a bottle of tequila. "Shot for shot?" he asked her.

"Giddy up."


	9. If You Called My Name Out Loud

If You Called My Name Out Loud

__

If we were walking down a dead end street

Would you be the one to let our eyes meet?

Or would you keep on walking down to the turnaround

Cause you know I'd be proud

If you called my name out loud

"So come on. You have to admit I came through tonight," Faye slurred, hanging upside down from the bed. Spike was only mildly better off, and was slumped lazily against the mini-bar, over turned shot glasses surrounding him like wounded soldiers.

"Yeah, you did. So that brings us to…let's see," he leaned his head back, heavy with the burden of thinking. "Faye one, Spike 6 billion."

Faye made an exaggerated huffing sound that hung in the air a little longer than it should have. "You know…" she grumbled. "You really chap my ass sometimes. It's a good thing you're cute or I would have ditched you on the side of the road long ago."

Spike seemed amused by this sudden declaration. "I'm cute?"

"Yeeaaaahhh," Faye rolled over so she was on her stomach, too loaded to be embarrassed. "But in an ugly way. It's hard to explain."

"Whoa, whoa," Spike laughed. "So am I a cute ugly person or an ugly cute person?"

Faye scrunched her face up as if in deep thought before coming up with, "I dunno. You're just…oddly pleasurable."

Spike nodded, thinking that oddly pleasurable wasn't so bad. "You shouldn't be telling me this," he said. "I'm only going to use it against you later."

"Naaaah," Faye dismissed him, standing up suddenly on shaky legs. She took a moment to steady herself before saying, "I have nothing to fear from you, Spike Spiegel."

"And why is that?"

"Because…" she drew the word out with a sad, knowing sort of smile. "I have nothing you want." She winked at him in a friendly sort of way and then made her way to the bathroom. Only a few minutes passed before Spike heard her puking. 

"You all right, tiger?" he asked her, knocking on the door.

"Yeah," she groaned. "I'm fine. I'm a god damned trooper."

Spike chuckled softly before stumbling over to the pull out couch. Pulling out the couch proved to be a total impossibility. He attempted to yank out something…he didn't know what part of the couch it actually was, and it snapped clean off. He landed on the floor with a stunned expression, holding a bit of upholstered something or other. Oh well. He'd tape it on tomorrow. Maybe Faye had spare couch parts in that magic purse of hers. He stood up and tried again and this time found himself getting his foot caught in the crack of the couch, which would have been painful had he been sober. He wrestled with that for a few minutes, then decided to screw it and sleep on it as is. Why did he always end up sleeping on the couch? There had to be something meaningful about that but he couldn't think of it, so he plopped back down and lay staring at the ceiling. The door opened and Faye came trudging weakly out of it, flopping on the master bed. "I want to not be drunk now," she grumbled.

"Put one foot on the floor," he suggested. "It helps the spinning for some reason."

He heard a very ungraceful thump, which seemed to indicate she followed his advice. "Hey," she said, pleasantly surprised. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"I mean…I mean for everything."

Spike smiled though she couldn't see it in the darkened room. "Don't mention it," he repeated. "Good night, Faye." But she was already snoring. 


	10. The Battle of Who Could Care Less

The Battle of Who Could Care Less

__

Do you not hear me anymore? 

I know it's not your thing to care 

I know it's cool to be so bored…

Will you never rest 

Fighting the battle of who could care less 

Faye was up the next morning reasonably bright eyed and bushy tailed, brushing her teeth about nine thousand times over before she was ready to head down to the brunch. "Hey, can we just be Spike and Faye this morning or do we still have to be yuppies?" Spike asked her, still in his boxers.

"We already got the tickets," she grinned, fanning them out like a deck of cards. "Spike and Faye it is."

"Good. That hair shit dried like cement. I don't know how anyone uses that stuff."

The brunch was really more like a raid. They strode into the dining hall and proceeded to shovel mountains of food on their plates far beyond what a normal person could reasonably digest. Spike was quite amused to note that they were not the only ones doing this. There were a few other painfully middle class shlubs stocking up, ones who no doubt pulled a similar scam or else lost their second mortgage at the tables last night. Vegas. It was a hell of a town. "Look alive, Faye," Spike warned her before tossing about six bagels into her purse from downtown. Faye filled the purse up the rest of the way with fruit, muffins and other non-sticky type items. When they thought they scored a reasonable trove of treasures, they bee lined it out of there, Spike bumping into some haughty looking suit on the way out. "Sorry," he waved apologetically before he caught up with Faye.

"Now we just return the clothes we bought," Faye said while shoving a hard-boiled egg into her mouth. "And we should have enough money to rent another car to Arizona."

"Oh yeah," Spike rolled his eyes as he snatched an apple from her purse. "This trip has been a piece of cake." They both froze as they rounded the corner. There was some hotel security knocking on their suite door. They both yelped and ducked back into the stairwell. "What the hell is that about?" he whispered to her.

"Poker Alice," Faye shrugged. "She gets around."

Spike shook his head as he led her quickly out of the hotel and out through an emergency exit, sounding off one of those annoying little beeps that no one listens to anyway. "Hang out here for a second. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"Hey, you had your night o' fun. I'll take it from here," Spike said as he darted back around the hotel. He wouldn't be as easily recognized as his notorious cohort and he didn't even recognize himself from last night. He figured his plan should be pretty easy. He fingered the little slip of paper he had in his pocket. Man, he loved bumping into rich people. For a skilled pickpocket such as himself, they were like walking piñatas. Today's little score landed him something quite invaluable. Today he managed to get a valet ticket. He handed the ticket over to the valet confidentially and behaved not at all unusual when he was rewarded with a cherry red Mustang convertible. Why should he behave strangely? It was his car. He tipped the driver extremely generously and putted casually out of the garage. That is until he rounded the corner, and then he floored it. He couldn't remember all those right on red types of rules so he sort of made them up as he went, masking his glee over their incredible good luck until he pulled up next to Faye. "Hey, baby, want some candy?"

"Holy shit, I LOVE you," she screamed as she booted him over to the passenger side and took off, making a sound that was something just shy of "yippee."

They rode in blissful silence for awhile, letting the wind whip their hair around into chaotic little nests. "How did you pull this off?" Faye asked him eventually.

"I don't reveal all my secrets on the first date," he said dryly. "What I want to know is why you don't pull what you did last night more often."

"What do you think I'm doing when I take off half the time?" she shrugged, and then her eyes widened at what she had just casually revealed. She thought that maybe if she shut up now and changed the subject she could get away with it. "Yeah so uh…how about that local sports team?" Dammit. Why was she only sharp tongued at the worst possible moments?

"So let me get this straight," Spike said darkly. "You take off with our money, spend the night in a swanky hotel and eat for free, then come back without said money and eat all of our food." 

"Uh…no."

"Dammit, Faye!" Spike kicked the glove compartment. "Just when I was beginning to think you were slightly redeemable as a human being."

"Oh, don't give me that righteous crap."

"What righteous crap?"

"Like I'm the only one who screws people on this ship. You do it all the damn time."

"How do I screw people?"

"How about running off all the time and getting shot up and cut up and thrown out of…"

"How does that affect anyone else?"

"Yeah, Ok. Like it doesn't affect Jet that you end up half dead every other week."

"It shouldn't."

"Yeah, well there are lot's of things in life that shouldn't happen, Spike, but they do anyway. And even if you can't possibly wrap your self-absorbed little brain around the fact that some people actually care about you…"

"Oh, please."

"…then at least you should consider your little business deal. Where does it land Jet if you get yourself killed, huh?"

"What are you his lawyer?"

"NO! My point is that you're an asshole too so leave me the fuck alone!"

"All right!" Spike yelled, but it was sort of at himself. The shrew had a point, and that fact alone pissed him off greatly. He honestly never realized that the crap he pulled sometimes could be considered selfish but yeah…it sort of was. He never considered it at all, actually. When it came to that part of his life, there was nothing more to consider. Just things he knew he had to do, no matter what. "All right," he continued in a rational tone of voice. "But I have my reasons. You don't have to get them, but I know them at least. I wonder sometimes if you even know why you do the things you do."

"You wanna know why?"

"Yeah, I do, actually."

"I'll tell you why. Cause if I'm screwing then I can't get screwed!" she shouted in a voice that sounded on the verge of tears. She paused for a second, to make sure she remained on the verge of tears and not submersed in them, and then added, "And I am sick to death of being screwed."

Spike rolled his eyes towards the window, fumbling in his pants for a pack of smokes. He sucked on one unlit for a second, just letting the taste of it settle on his tongue before he sparked up. "We're not looking to screw you, Faye," he muttered softly.

"No…but you will. You are going to screw me someday, Spike. Whether you mean to or not."

Spike knew what she meant by that. She meant he was going to get himself killed. And he didn't argue with it because he knew it was true, and he didn't apologize for it because he wasn't sorry. But he did sigh a little bit, because it made him sad. "Well," he said gently. "I'll tell you what. You just go on screwing me and I'll just go on screwing you. It ain't exactly love but it sure beats screwing yourself."

Faye chuckled slightly before extending her own cig for a light. "It's a deal."

*****

Jet and Ed were watching television. It had been several days and they had run out of fun things to do. They had been watching television for almost an entire day. Ein was licking himself. It was almost rhythmic, the constant slurping sound of his tongue against his course fur. There was a leak coming from somewhere too. Jet couldn't find it when he went looking, because like a good leak it stopped as soon as Jet rose from the sofa. But he could hear it. Lick, drip, lick, drip, lick, drip. It was not only noisy but uncomfortably moist. 

"It's been awhile since we've heard from them, huh?" Jet asked lazily.

"Yep, yep," Ed replied, equally lethargic.

"Well…it's nice to have quiet all the time."

"Quuuuiiiiiieeeetttttt," Ed sighed. "Quiet, quiet, quiet."

Lick, drip, lick, drip, lick, drip, lick.

"Let's try to call them."

"OK!" Ed leaped suddenly from the couch in a whoop of joy.

******

They were pretty quiet for the rest of the trip. There was some grappling with the map and some minor bickering about gas and when they should give up and ask for directions. But they did make it to Arizona. They stood smoking at the state line for a second, not wanting to rush this momentous occasion. "Arizona…how I've come to loath that name," Spike sighed.

"Don't loath it yet. I've still got something waiting for me here and I don't want you to jinx it."

"What do you think it is?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's a treasure map and we have to spend the night in a haunted house or something to get it. Or maybe it's the deed to a nice house somewhere or maybe there will be a limo waiting for me because it turns out I am the princess of Genovia."

"Or maybe it's just a bunch of bills."

Faye scrunched up her face at this horrifying new prospect, and then rubbed her cigarette out on Spike's boot. "Well…come on."

They only got a little ways into the state before they needed gas again. None of the road movies Spike or Faye had ever seen had mentioned the business of gas or getting your oil changed or anything like that. It was a bitch. They pulled angrily into the station as if it was the car's fault it needed fuel. Faye decided she wanted to pump the gas, much to the delight of the male gas attendants. There was something decidedly suggestive about the way she handled the pump that made Spike roll his eyes. They sat on the hood of the car for a bit, waiting for the tank to fill, when they suddenly got a whiff of something wonderful. Bacon. They both turned at the same time and saw a diner. Both of their stomachs rumbled in response. "How we doin' on the hotel booty?" he asked Faye.

Faye went rummaging through her purse. "We have an orange left. And an unidentified muffin."

"Unidentified?"

"Yeah…I dunno what flavor it is. It's like kinda pinkish colored and it has some sort of nut in it."

"Banana nut?"

"I don't think so," she sniffed it and then took a bite. She rolled it around in her mouth for awhile before she shrugged and said, "I still don't know."

"Is it bad?"

"It doesn't offend me, no. But I can't say it's as good as that bacon is smelling. How we doing on funds?"

Spike paid at the pump and then checked his account. "4,000 left."

"What if we got like the breakfast special and split it?"

"I dunno, Faye…"

"Aw, come on. Are we ever going to be in a situation where our lives will depend on 10 woolongs?"

"We will now that you just said that."

"Spiiiiiiike," she whined like a pro. A good whiner can turn a one-syllable word into at least three.

Spike wasn't going to lie. He wanted bacon. So he shrugged and the two of went off into the diner across the road to split the trucker special. As they were sitting there munching away, Spike looked outside and noticed what looked like an ISSP agent examining their car. Well, that wasn't good. He was trying to formulate some sort of plan when he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned around and was met by someone's fist. Faye just raised an eyebrow and moved her plate of eggs out of the way as Spike sat back up with a dazed expression.

"I knew she was your sister or somethin'," the boy grumbled. The kid from the casino. "Do you know how much money you cost me, fag? They kicked me out and confiscated my chips!"

Spike's eyes were still on the agents, who seemed to be questioning the pump attendants. Hopefully, they weren't the kind of people who cooperated with cops. "Sorry about that," he said absently. Must…do…something.

"Yeah, I'll make you sorry," he snapped and wound up to hit him again. 

Spike easily evaded him this time as Faye gave him a "what the fuck?" sort of look. He gave her a "don't worry about it" look in return and then turned to catch the kid's foot, which was coming at him. Spike twisted it so the kid toppled neatly in the seat. "Ok. From one gambler to another, I feel bad about the chips," he said quickly. "So I'm giving you a chance to make it up. You have cards, Faye?"

"Do I have cards…" she muttered as she dug through her purse and tossed him a deck.

"Good. Round of black jack. Winner take all."

"And what's all?" the kid sniffed.

"These," Spike tossed the car keys down on the table.

Faye looked at him like she was going to strangle him but then looked out the window to see the agents slowly making their way through the gas station. She was even sure she saw someone pointing at the diner. Shit. "I'll deal," she said quickly.

"Hell no! I don't trust her! And what do I bet on this?"

"Nothing," Spike said quickly. "I win, I walk. That's it."

The kid seemed to consider this and Spike wished he considered faster. Finally he said, "All right. But she ain't dealing."

"Fine," Spike rolled his eyes. "You," he pointed at an old man sitting with his buddies in the corner. They had amassed quite an audience at this point.

"Me?" 

"Yeah. Deal."

The old guy wobbled over to him as his two friends poked their heads up to get a better look. "You know, this reminds me a time back when we were digging the old…"

"Today," Spike snapped at him.

The old man looked offended. "Kids," he grumbled, and his friends rose up a chorus of disdain for the youth before he dealt the cards. The kid had 17, Spike had 19.

"Hit me," Spike said, and everyone gasped.

"I like to live dangerously," he said in his best suave voice but inside, he was screaming. The agents were making their way over here and wouldn't it just be his luck he'd pull a damn 2 or an ace. Faye seemed to be thinking the same thing as she stood up next to him, her tension almost tangible. The old man seemed to be taking nine years to flip the card, drawing it out for his own amusement. The cowboys kept looking back and forth, from the card to the agents as the kid licked his lips. Everyone in the whole diner was on the edge of their seat. Finally, the old man flipped over the card and Faye actually screamed and closed her eyes as it hit the table.

"3," the old man said. "22. Bust."

The crowd all groaned as the kid yelped in delight. He waved his hand out smugly for the keys. Spike did his best to look pissed off, gave him the keys, and it about two seconds, he and Faye disappeared out the back.

"Does anyone in here own a red Mustang convertible?" the cops announced as they entered the room.

The kid grinned widely. "Why," he said with a snarky expression. "I believe I do."


	11. Jack Ass

Jack Ass

__

I've been drifting along in these same stale old shoes

Loose ends tying a noose in the back of my mind

If you thought you were making your way

To where the puzzles and pagans lay

Put it together, it's a strange invitation

Faye and Spike were walking very quickly down the street of the little town. "Now what?" she asked. 

"I have no idea," Spike admitted. "How far do we have to this place?"

"I'm not sure. The directions are kind of sketchy."

Suddenly, both of them heard a train whistle. They looked up and saw a freight train chugging in the distance. "We're never going to make it," Spike observed.

"We can sure as hell try," Faye snapped and the two of them were off. The small town proved to be an obstacle course of sorts, and finding a straight route to where that train seemed to logically be heading proved difficult. They went running though people's houses and hitched rides on bumpers and at one point, actually jumped into a shopping cart but finally, they managed to cut it off. Spike ran hard along the outside, his long legs proving to be a considerable asset over Faye's. He made one flying leap and made a grab for the door, letting the train drag his boots along the gravel for a bit before he hoisted himself into it. He reached his hand out for Faye, knowing this was not going to go smoothly.

Faye herself was having trouble keeping up. She was just never built to be particularly fast. Her boots in the sand weren't helping things either. "Move it, Faye!" Spike shouted from the train.

Faye grumbled as she yanked off one of her boots and flung it at her partner. He ducked behind the door as it bounced off the boxcar where his head would have been. He waited until he saw the other one fly by and then stuck his head back out. Both the removal of the shoes and the release of some pent up aggression seemed to give her an extra burst of power. She made one quick jump and he grabbed her hand, yanking her in so hard they both toppled backwards. "That actually went better than anticipated," Spike remarked as the two of them sat up. They then turned their attention to the large group of unsavory men who had already staked claim to the cart, all of them wielding knives.

******

"Come on…where are they?" Jet thumped his fingers on the comm. Finally, someone picked it up but it was neither Spike nor Faye.

"Who are you?" the man bellowed.

"Who the hell are you?" Jet shot back.

"Do you know a guy named Emmanuel Agu?"

Jet sighed. It was well known on the Bebop that Emmanuel Agu was the name Spike gave when he did not want to leave his own. "Maybe," Jet muttered. "How the hell do you have his comm?"

"He left it on the dashboard of the wrecked and ravaged vehicle he rented from me, AND THEN LEFT ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD!!!"

Yeah, that sounded like Mr. and Mrs. Agu all right. "How much do they owe you?" Jet grumbled. 

"Owe?!? Well, take the cost of the car plus the reward I put out to find these guys…"

"Whoa, there's a bounty on them?"

"Well how the hell else am I going to find them?"

"Thank you, bye!" Jet hung up. "Hey, Ed! Guess what?"

"Giant bunnies have taken over Mars and only those with carrots shall be spared?"

"No," Jet said flatly.

"Then Ed's second guess," she said dramatically, putting her fingers to her temples like a swami. "Is…there's a bounty on Spike and Faye-Faye!" she announced as she spun her computer around for Jet to see. 

Jet just sighed. "Well…let's go."

*******

"So then it turned out the whole thing was all because I left this lobster in the refrigerator for like a year."

"No kidding?" one of the knife wielding maniacs remarked. They actually turned out to be quite nice once they gave them cigarettes and a joint Spike had in his pocket from the hippies.

"Hey. Hey, Spike," Faye poked him.

"What?"

"I think that's the town. That's our stop," she checked her note to make sure. "That's our stop!"

"It might be your stop but it ain't the trains stop. You want out, you gotta jump," one of the guys spoke from experience. "The idea is to tuck and roll."

Spike and Faye looked over the edge of the speeding train. When they had jumped on, it wasn't at full speed. Trains never go full speed through a town. But this wasn't really a town in a residential sense. And the nearest building was at least two miles away. Faye gulped.

"You guys don't jump you're gonna miss it!"

"You jump first," Spike said. "Cause you look like you're gonna chicken out on me."

"I am not."

"Then jump." 

The knife-wielding maniacs cheered her on as she took a breath and leapt from the moving train. Tuck and roll! She thought to herself, but she wasn't exactly sure on what that meant. She was rolling at any rate. She smacked into the post of a road sign pretty hard, and barely took a breath before Spike barreled into her. They laid there dazed for a few minutes. "Uh…you all right?" Spike asked her.

"I think I am somewhere slightly to the left of all right," Faye groaned. "But I'm not critical."

They just laid there again for awhile Spike suggested, "I think we should make a move to get up now."

They staggered to their feet, brushed themselves off, and silently kept trucking on towards the address, which seemed to be in the middle of a junkyard. Faye went nervously inside. "Hi," she asked the proprietor. "My name's Faye? I think you have a…"

"Wow," the man cut her off. "I didn't think you'd show."

"Um, can I ask why is it you have this package? I mean, do I know you?"

The man shook his head. "I dunno. I just opened the shop one day and it was sitting there on my desk with a note saying it needed to go to you. I don't know who it was from or why the hell they chose me to do it. Only reason why I sent you the message was cause I was curious. That and it was too expensive to send the package, what with you being mobile and all. Do you know what this is all about?"

Faye shook her head. "I have no idea."

The man shrugged and slid a thin package across the table to her. "Well, here it is."

Faye took a breath before she carefully opened the package. She closed her eyes for a moment, nervous to actually gaze upon whatever it was that was worth all this trouble. She opened one eye slowly, and then the other. It was a book. A plain, totally ordinary looking red book with worn binding and yellow pages. And on the cover, written in simple gold foil lettering that was half rubbed off, was the title, Longmeadow High School, Class of '12.

She gasped a bit, as this was nothing that she had expected. It was a lot more. It was her adolescence. People who could remember theirs did nothing but pine away for the good old days, so her missing teenage years always held a bit of a romantic quality to them. But she never wanted to actually see it. She never imagined she would ever be holding in her hand the photographic evidence that she was once gangly and awkward and socially inept. It took years for adults to suppress those memories. How long would it take her now that she's just learning them at 23? She slowly turned and brushed by Spike, who had been staring at her all this time with obvious curiosity. "What is it?" he asked her.

She ignored him and sat down on an old tire. This was it. The closest thing she would ever get to her true self, since it was the latest documented bit of her life before the accident. Everything she was shaping up to be before she lost it all was scrawled in this book. She took a breath opened it. There was a name scribbled in magic marker on the inside cover: Faye Wriggly.

Wriggly. Her real name. She almost dropped the book. The odd thing was, all she could feel was relief that her name was still Faye. They had at least known that much when they defrosted her. She wouldn't be able to handle an entirely knew identity at his point. She drew in another breath and checked the index. To her great surprise she was on about a dozen pages. Well…this was it.

Spike had expected her to be tight lipped about this whole thing. But he didn't expect her to suddenly slam down the book, storm around in a circle for a bit and then collapse in a distressed huff a few feet away from a torn umbrella. "Uh…what did it say?" he asked.

She responded with a desolate howl, so Spike figured if he wanted to find out he would have to take matters into his own hands. He gazed cock eyed at the book for a moment. A yearbook. Holy shit. He never saw one up close. Suddenly excited though he didn't know why, he kicked it up with his foot and started thumbing through it anxiously. Let's see…Faye, Faye, Faye. Faye Wriggly. Certainly a better name than Valentine. And there she was. Spike scrunched up his nose at the picture. Well, that wasn't very embarrassing at all. He had expected her to be in some sort of horrendous hair cut with braces and acne all over the place. But it was just Faye. Thinner, smaller and dressing plainer, but still identifiably Faye. She even had the same haircut except it was less purple and she had bangs. He scanned down to the caption. Glee Club. Ok, maybe that was embarrassing but he didn't see why she had to go hysterical. He glanced at her briefly before continuing on through the book. She was all over the place. National Honors Society, Key Club, Theatre Guild, Eco Club, Yearbook Staff, School Newspaper. She was even on the cheerleading squad. There was a big picture of her at the top of a pyramid, smiling brighter than he had ever expected possible from Faye. "I don't get you," he called over to her. "What is your problem? This is great, isn't? You were a regular over achiever."

She sucked in a messy sob before yelling back, "Page 32."

Spike shook his head as he flipped to the page she instructed. Senior Superlatives. And there was Faye. She was all smiley and twinkle eyed with her bangs charmingly disheveled and a pencil tucked behind her ear. He scanned down a bit and saw what she had won. 

Most Likely to Succeed.

"So?" he asked, his frustration showing in his voice.

"So, look at me! I'm not a born loser. I'm a Born Again loser. I would have rather found out I was a no good punk who smoked in the girls room and sucked off the basketball team. At least then I wouldn't have so far to fall. God, look at those other people in that book! They all ended up better than me."

Spike looked down at the other kids. Most Likely to Drop the Bomb. Class Clown. Fashion Victim. They were all little pimply freaks of nature. He thought briefly about what he looked like at 16, thought about what little caption they'd put under him and decided he could safely add high school to the list of things about childhood he was glad he missed. Then he looked back at Faye's picture. She was so sure of herself there. So comfortable in her own skin. He looked back up at the wreck in front of him and suddenly realized why this had her so upset. "You're not a failure," he said on an impulse. 

She looked up at him with wet, doe eyes, then glanced around to the dump they were currently sitting in, the clothes she was currently wearing and the pair of old boots she was seriously considering stealing from a trash heap. Somehow Spike's declaration of her non-failure status fell a little short. Spike, realizing this, backtracked a little. "Ok…what I mean to say is success is relative."

Faye raised an eyebrow at him. "Stop helping, Spike. You're bad at it."

"Ok, fine!" he shouted. "I am going to take a nap. Wake me up when you are done wallowing in your infinite self-pity," he snapped as he made a particularly showy display of stretching out across a half broken card table.

"Dick," she muttered as she feebly reached out for her yearbook. She sat staring back into her own eyes, so familiar yet so alien to her. How could this person be her? How can someone with so much promise wake up one day and turn into this? The ugly duckling was supposed to turn into a swan, not an even uglier duck. She didn't feel like she could have ever done all these things. She never felt smart or clever or generous. Maybe she was never really given the opportunity but still. Shouldn't she have somehow known her own potential? How could she settle so easily when this girl obviously wouldn't have? She sat staring at the girl for a long time. She had no idea how much time had passed while she was sitting there, or how long Spike had been (pretending to be) asleep before she heard his tired, gravely voice drift across the junkyard.

"You done wallowing?" he asked her without getting up.

"Yeah…I'm wading now," she grumbled.

Spike groaned and trudged over to her. "Well, I'm cutting you off. I'd like to get home before my 40th birthday if you don't mind. You have the rest of your life to be miserable."

She sighed and pulled herself up. She walked in absolute silence for the rest of the way, head down and several steps behind Spike as they wandered into what little town there was to find a phone. At first he appreciated the quiet but then he started to get a little worried. This whole crusade Faye was on was unhealthy. He knew he wasn't one to be lecturing anyone about inner demons and what not, but he figured he was in better shape. His problems only had two possible endings. One was that he'd find Julia and they'd live happily ever after (yeah right) and the other was that he would end up dead. Those were the only possible alternatives. But with Faye…there was no ending here. She would just be walking around in depressing little circles her whole life, searching for things that don't even exist. Hell, at least Julia was real. This was ridiculous. The two of them were hardly best buddies but he wouldn't want to watch anyone slowly bleed to death, which is exactly what she was doing to herself. Something had to be done. He stopped suddenly and whirled around on his toes. Faye crashed into him, which was sort of silly considering she was about five steps behind and had to actually continue walking for several seconds before she hit him. She didn't even look up. She just mumbled some apology and shrunk back a few steps. "Faye…"

"What?"

"Let's be honest here," he said firmly.

"Yes, since you usually sugar coat everything," she said wryly.

"Shut up," he said, holding up his hand while he reorganized his train of thought. He assumed that momentum was key when you were staging an intervention. "Faye…you are never going to be a successful business woman. You are never going to own nine SUV's and go to the county club on Sundays and have six children all named after presidents. You are not going to marry some doctor or live in a penthouse or own a yacht. You will never have a nice lawn or turkey with all the dressing or a set of crochet clubs. This is never going to happen for you."

"Thank you, Spike. I feel better already," she snapped as she peeled away from him.

"HOWEVER," he yelled sharply and she froze. "You are still here. You are still standing. And you are still capable of kicking ass. Considering everything that's happened to you, I would have to say that in itself measures up to a certain degree of success." He paused for a second and Faye turned to face him. Her expression was entirely unreadable. "So can you stop moping now and haul some ass? I'm freaking starving and it suddenly smells like a tire fire around here."

Faye shook her head in absolute astonishment. "Yeah…let's go," she said softly.


	12. Dare to Be Stupid

Dare to Be Stupid

__

Put down your chainsaw and listen to me  
It's time for us to join in the fight  
It's time to let your babies grow up to be cowboys  
It's time to let the bedbugs bite  


They didn't even locate a phone before they rounded a corner and almost ran directly into a bounty hunter. They didn't know it was a bounty hunter right away. But they noticed that something was up with him, because he looked at them strangely and then looked at a piece of paper he had in his pocket. "Uh…excuse me," Spike shrugged as they went to sneak by him.

"Um…Freeze," the guy instructed as he whipped out his gun. He was still consulting his paper, looking back and forth between the dossier and the couple in front of him. Finally, he seemed confident these were the guys and repeated "Freeze" with more authority. 

Spike and Faye looked at each other with confused expressions. "What is on that paper?" Faye asked.

"Your bounty," the man said matter of factly. He seemed to be new to this whole process. 

"Give me that," Spike snapped as he snatched the paper out of the guy's hand.

"Hey, I've got a gun here!" the newbie hunter reminded him. He somehow thought that would carry more weight then it seemed to be.

"Yeah, we've all got guns, kid," Spike sighed as he unfolded the paper. "Hmmm. I'll be damned. There's a bounty on us."

"No shit," Faye peeked over his shoulder. "Oh. That's not for very much." She for some reason found her own self worth to be in direct correlation to how much money she was appraised for at the time. "I wonder who put it out? I mean, it could really be anyone. We pissed off almost everyone we met."

"I dunno," Spike scanned the sheet. The bounty hunter meanwhile, hung out patiently in the background, his gun still raised in a half assed sort of manner. He had no idea if this was standard protocol or not. Every job had a company culture, really. Like it was understood at the Super Stop and Shop that everyone went on their breaks five minutes early. "Oh!" Spike suddenly stood up. "It's from the rental place!"

"The rental place? How do you know?"

"They have us down as Emmunal Agu and associate. I had old Manny rent the car."

"Ugh. See, I told you it doesn't help to use that stupid name. I mean, if you're going to use a secret identity at least throw some glasses on. Or like a wig or something."

  
"Hello?" The bounty hunter snapped at them. He thought he had been more than sporting. "I'm apprehending you here."

"Yeah, all right buddy," Spike sighed. "You got us."

"I do?"

"Yeah. Book us. Or…whatever." Hell, they needed the ride. And it was extremely apparent they would have no trouble ditching this guy when they got back to New York. Faye seemed to be on the same wavelength and did not protest.

"Oh. Ok," the kid seemed genuinely baffled. This line of work looked a lot more exciting on TV. He had handcuffs though and he enjoyed using them. He had never handcuffed anyone before.

In fact, things were going so well he didn't even think anything of leaving the two bounties cuffed to the seat while he went to take a piss on the ship. He didn't even imagine that it was possible for the girl bounty to get out of her cuffs and use his comm to call a third party.

"So, you want me to come get you?" Jet sighed, as if he wasn't already on his way to come get them.

"Jet, you know you're going to so let's just cut the crap," Faye snapped. She then gave him their coordinates and slid back into her handcuffs just as Junior came back into the cabin. She smiled innocently at him and he just went right back to the cockpit.

It was about five hours before the International Bounty Inspector wanted to check out his cargo. He had never heard of the IBI before but he seemed to have all the proper paper work and he was just a few miles from the New York state border. It made sense. He wouldn't want people shipping strange people into his state all the time. "So what are you just giving them like a physical or something?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's it," Jet yawned as he ushered his two bounty heads onto the ship. It was about five minutes before the IBI ship took off.

The young cowboy looked at the void where the ship once was and sighed. He was just hosed pretty hardcore.

"Wow. That was sad," Jet remarked when they were safe from Junior's clutches.

"Yeah…wasn't really the sharpest tack in the box. But I guess he'll learn," Spike shrugged.

"Hey, I picked it up pretty easy. Most Likely to Sell Other People's Lives for Chump Change," Faye grumbled and then proceeded to storm right into her room and slam the door. 

"What's with her?"

"Don't ask," Spike shook his head.

"Oh, and you owe me 300,000 woolongs for the car."

"Spike Person!" Ed leapt into Spike's arms, or would have if they were opened in a warm embrace. Instead he just stumbled backwards onto the couch and Ed sat cross legged on his chest. "You bring Ed souvenirs?"

"Sure," Spike shrugged. He rooted around in his jacket. "I got you a matchbook and this pen from the hotel and a bottle cap."

"Oooooh," Ed's eye lit up at her stash. Spike could tell that she had just probably formulated a thousand and one things she could do with a matchbook, a pen and a bottle cap and decided he didn't want to know any of them. She leapt off of him and flew into one of the many caverns in the ship. 

Jet shook his head and sat down on the couch beside his partner. "So how was the trip?" Then he added with a sly grin, "You guys bond?"

"Spike! Where's my toothbrush!?!"

"Why the hell would I know where your toothbrush is, Faye?"

"Well, I had it when we left the hotel. Are you sure you didn't…"

"Yes, I've intentionally abducted your toothbrush for my own diabolical agenda. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I'm just asking a question. Why do you have to be such a prick?!"

"Why are you such a shrew?"

"Ugh. Bite me!"

The door slammed again and Spike and Jet sat in silence for a bit. Finally, Jet said, "You know, I think I really felt the love there."


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

__

The world is spinning too fast  
I'm buying lead Nike shoes  
To keep myself tethered  
To the days I try to lose  


As much as Jet would have liked things to be back to normal around the ship (he really was a slave to routine), things were a bit off. Well, Faye was a bit off. She spent a lot of time in her room and seemed kind of stand offish, even more so than usual. Jet eventually got the lowdown on the contents of the package, but he didn't quite understand why it had her so upset. But then, there was no way he could even begin to empathize with her situation properly so he figured that was understandable. Spike, meanwhile, became totally fascinated with the yearbook. He almost constantly had his nose in it, but only when Faye wasn't around as she would kill him. It wasn't even Faye so much that intrigued him as the whole concept of high school. There seemed to be a definite system going on here, a whole social order that was totally irrelevant to the rest of the world. He would know. He got his education at the University of Hard Knocks as it were, and he had never in his life encountered this kind of strange, almost masochistic bullshit. He was hooked.

It was during one of his routine combing of the material that he stumbled upon something of great interest. "Holy shit," he said out loud.

Jet looked over at him. "What?"

"I can't believe she didn't notice this," he muttered.

"For God sakes, what?" Jet was curious now.

Spike didn't answer though. He just got up and knocked on Faye's door. "Yo, Faye."

"I'm sleeping," she sighed. She so wasn't.

"I wanna show you something."

Now Faye was not only not sleeping but very suspicious. "What, do you have a water balloon or something?"

Spike grumbled and then slid the yearbook under the door. He wasn't in the mood to argue with her. "You were reading my yearbook?" she shrieked, the door still shut. "How dare you! That is my private, personal…"

"Well, I did a better job reading it that you did cause you missed something pretty key. Page 12," he said and then returned to his spot on the couch.

Faye stared at the door for a second, as if she could direct her scowl somehow through the door, and then lunged for the book. What was he going on about? Page 12. Senior quotes. Well, ok she didn't even think to look at that. Her picture wasn't there so she didn't see it in the index, and she pretty much vowed not to flip through it after the initial read in the junkyard because it depressed her. She scanned the page for her name and found it. 

Faye Wriggly: Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery….

She gasped and dropped the book on the floor. She took another breath and picked it up gingerly in her hands as if it would burn her. It was there. It was really there. It was her song. It was always her song. She flew out of her room and into the living room. "Tell me this is real," she said to Spike.

"It's real, Faye," he said.

"You didn't alter this or something? To make me feel better?"

"When have I ever made a genuine effort to make you feel better?"

"It's…it's my song," she said in a small voice.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you know what this means?!?"

"It means you're Faye," Spike said in a tone bordering on exasperation. "Just like always."

Faye looked at him in a strange way, as if she was trying to apply his simple logic to her own complex problem. She was Faye. For some reason she assumed Faye Valentine was inherently different from Faye Wriggly but maybe that was the answer. Maybe she was just Faye. She didn't share any of this with anyone, though. She just got this far away look in her eye and went back to her room.

"Ok," Jet said. "What the hell was that about?"

Spike shrugged. "Inside…joke. Or something."

Jet just rolled his eyes. They were all fucking mad.

A few hours later, Jet had managed to whip up some dinner, which was already back to the usual fare. They would have to learn to ration food better. But they probably would never have food again so maybe it wasn't worth the effort. He went to go shout for everyone in the living room when he caught Spike and Faye sitting out on the hanger, smoking. He stopped for a second to take in the scene. They were sitting in total silence, about five feet away from each other. Jet always figured that was their cease fire, of sorts. Their silent reconciliation, their temporary truce. It was nice. It had to be destroyed.

"Hey guys!" he poked his head out the hatch. "Dinner's on. But I ran out of beef so one of you is going to have to eat the vegetarian one."

He let that sink in before he poked his head back in the ship, sighing contently as their hostile buzzing kicked up again. Fact of the matter was, the sound of Spike and Faye bickering had fast become an essential part of the soundtrack of his life. If it wasn't there, it just threw off the rhythm. 

"HEY! Don't you even think about it!" Faye shrieked as the two of them made a mad dash to the kitchen. Jet winced as a large crashing sound followed.

Well…it had a beat and you could dance to it.

__

IT'S THE MUSIC THAT YOU CHOOSE

Hey, that was fun. I know we might have tripped over some cannon there with Faye's real name. I know the doctor said he made up Valentine but I don't think he said he made the whole name up, so I kept her Faye. She just is Faye. I couldn't give her another name.

Original Soundtrack available on pirate music servers everywhere. Artists include Cake, Jill Sobule, Less Then Jake, National Lampoon's Vacation (Limp does a fun cover), The Eels, The Grateful Dead, OAR, Dispatch, Ben Folds Five, Beck, Weird Al (I can't believe I quoted him) and the Gorillaz.

And of course, Angel From Montgomery but I don't know who to properly credit with that song. Sooooo many people have covered it. The Dave Mathews Band does a lovely version. 

And just as a side note, If You Called My Name Out Loud by Dispatch was my Spike/Faye song mentioned in the afterward of The Reluctant Jezebel.

Well, thanks for reading and for all the reviews.

Agent Orange out


End file.
